


Confessions of a Workaholic Vampire

by toraguru



Category: Hotel Transylvania (Movies)
Genre: Bathtubs, Drac works too hard, Ericka has just the remedy, F/M, Fluff, Massage, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 16:24:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20838509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toraguru/pseuds/toraguru
Summary: A busy night at the hotel leaves Drac utterly exhausted. Ericka takes it upon herself to treat him to some rest and relaxation.





	Confessions of a Workaholic Vampire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drericka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drericka/gifts).

> Originally I was going to write porn, but this just unfolded too sweetly. I couldn't taint it. I don't usually write things that are non-pornographic, so please, enjoy this morsel of chastity. Written for drericka after I spent the last week inhaling their tumblr. <3

All night long, 365.25 days a year, Count Dracula was in full hotel management mode. He had to be, of course; there were check-ins to process, luggage to deliver, amenities to book, staff to chew out...he could go on. There was no one on Satan’s black Earth more befitting the “workaholic” title than he; running a hotel for monsters was backbreaking work, and that’s exactly how Drac liked it. 

On that particular night, the hotel was buzzing with action. A large family of poltergeists had arrived without a reservation, forcing his daughter Mavis to entertain the group’s ghostly—and belligerent—matriarch while Drac frantically searched for an open block of rooms.

“Yes, I know, I’m so sorry ma’am,” Mavis repeated, moving to pick up the woman’s hand to emphasize her apologies. Her outstretched fingers slipped right through thin air. Mavis’ blushed at her gaffe, head sinking into her shoulders. She smiled painfully. “We’ll get you a set of rooms ASAP.”

The ghost woman huffed and tossed her short cropped hair. “You mean, you’ll find the reservation _ I _made weeks ago!” she snapped. “Let me speak to your manager.”

As if on cue, Drac dropped from the ceiling to land, catlike, beside Mavis. “Eheh, speak of the devil,” Drac said, about himself. “Here you go, Mrs. Venkman. Three adjoining rooms on the third floor. Complimentary ectoplasm is waiting for you up there.” He offered the woman three ghostly room keys. 

Mrs. Venkman eyed Dracula’s too-wide smile for a moment. She huffed once more before taking the keys and floating up through the ceiling. Her family followed suit.

As the last ghostly tail disappeared above, Drac let his customer service grin slip from his face. Yet another hotel crisis averted. He exhaled loudly, deflating like an old balloon.

With a flash of purple magic, Mavis pulled a comfy chair under Drac and gently nudged him into it. Drac was a puddle in the chair, but the look of accomplished contentment was clear in his eyes. 

Mavis kissed the top of his head. “You’ve done it again, Dad,” she said. “You’re the best in the business.”

A doting expression fell over Drac’s face as he looked at his daughter. “Thank you, Mavy. I couldn’t do it without you, my little mouse,” he said.

Mavis grinned. Drac knew that deep down she was just like her daddy—she loved the busy lifestyle that running the hotel brought. “I think you’ve earned your rest today,” she said. “It’s almost dawn; you should be getting to bed.”

Drac eyed her in mock suspicion, his barely-stifled yawn ruining the effect a bit. “Isn’t it _ my _ job to put _ you _ to bed?” he teased.

Mavis laughed as he pulled him up from the chair and led him to the staircase. “Things change once your baby has a baby,” she said. “Besides, it’s about time someone took care of you, Dad.” She patted him affectionately before urging him up the stairs.

Drac turned back to smile softly at her. Mavis’ lips curved sweetly back at him, eyes tiny half-moons, before shooting him a scolding look ordinarily reserved for Dennis. “Bedtime,” she reminded Drac. “Now.”  
  


By the time Dracula arrived in his and Ericka’s chambers and shut the door behind him, the exhaustion of the night’s work had settled into his bones. “Yeesh,” he muttered to himself, giving his back a solid crack, “I’m starting to feel more like 5400 than 540.”

“Is that you, honey?” Ericka’s faint musical voice rang out, echoing from somewhere inside.

At the sound of his mate’s calling, Drac felt his tired body grow light. A dopey smile fell across his face, and his heart began to pound a familiar rhythm, just like it did each and every morning that he came home to his beautiful, incredible Ericka.

“Coming, my love,” he answered. His aching feet moved on their own accord toward the sound of Ericka’s voice, around the corner and past his cape closet.

When he emerged into the main room, he was met with an unlit chandelier and their empty 4-poster bed. Ericka was nowhere to be found. He looked around at the stone walls, confused. “Ericka?” he called out. “Where are you?”

There was a sudden sound—stone scraping against stone—that startled him. He whirled around. A panel of the wall slid out, revealing an inner chamber that hadn’t been there before. He stared as a shapely leg emerged in the freshly-opened doorway, followed suit by the most beautiful creature Dracula had ever laid eyes upon.

Ericka stood in the entrance wearing only her pyjamas, shimmering white silk clinging to every curve. Her blonde hair was tousled from sleep in the most endearing way. Her eyes, blue as the ocean, were hooded. She gazed at him with an affection so deep that it seemed to emanate towards him in waves.

“Hi gorgeous,” Ericka said with a giggle. She stepped lightly out of the doorway, her bare feet making no sound on the stone floor.

Drac said nothing; he couldn’t form words at the moment. He could, however, walk. And so he moved to close the distance between himself and the incredible woman he had the honour of calling his fiancee.

Without Ericka’s usual heels, the height difference between them was much more noticable. The top of Ericka’s beautiful head barely reached to his chest. Something about staring down at his Zing, so unguarded and vulnerable for him only, lit a warm spark in Dracula’s chest. He wanted nothing but to scoop her in his arms and clutch her tightly to him.

As Drac’s hands settled on her waist, Ericka held up a finger indicating he should wait. His brow furrowed; he was so exhausted, and Ericka looked so warm and soft and inviting, that all he wanted was to take her to the bed and cuddle.

“Not yet,” she said, as if she could read his thoughts. He must have looked sullen, because she was quick to amend it with, “Later, I promise.” She pecked him lightly on the lips.

An electric shock seemed to run straight from his lips through his entire body. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Ericka wrapped a strand around her index finger and gazed lovingly at him.

When he recovered and some clarity had returned to his brain, Drac noticed something he’d overlooked before. A noise. It sounded something like rushing water, but softer.

“What is that sound?” he asked, shooting her a curious look.

Ericka smiled wryly. “Just follow me, honey. Close your eyes,” she said. He obliged. She slipped her smaller hand into his and began to lead him through the doorway. 

The first thing Drac noticed was the temperature. It was warm and humid, which was quite uncommon for the dank hotel chambers. The sound of rushing water was louder inside, echoing off the stone walls. “Ok, I’m wanting to open my eyes now,” he said.

Ericka chuckled. “You can open them,” she said.

Drac slowly opened his eyes, and felt his heart flutter at the scene before him.

The cozy chamber was filled to the brim with glowing candles, their flickering orange light playing off of the walls to create pleasing shadows and shapes. Rows of candles illuminated a path through the center of the room. At the focal point, Drac was stunned to see a beautiful porcelain bathtub, roomy enough for two. Water was filling the tub at a relaxing pace via a cascading water feature on the wall—the source of the sound. Floating on top of the rippling water were what appeared to be flower petals scented with calming oils, if Drac’s nose was anything like it used to be. On a small table beside the tub, there appeared to be a wine glass filled with a dark red liquid. He inhaled once more, the tingling in his gums confirming his guess: Blood Beaters.

A slow, wobbly smile wove itself onto Drac’s cheeks. He grabbed his mate and pulled her close, blinking raw emotion from his eyes as he gazed softly at her. He was struck to the core by Erick’s thoughtfulness; his heart ached, and his stomach was alive with butterflies.

“I can’t thank you enough, my honeybat,” he managed to say, despite the lump of emotion in his throat. He paused for a moment in his crushing hug to kiss her hair and her cheeks and her ears and her neck and everywhere.

Ericka smiled against his onslaught. “I had it done as a surprise,” she said. “They were working on it every night while you were downstairs running the hotel.” Sliding her hand up his jaw and cupping it, she pulled him down for a soft, yet deep, kiss. She pulled back to look him in the eyes again, although her hand remained on his cheek. “You’ve been so overworked lately, Drac. Let me take care of you tonight.”

Drac’s eyes were saucers as Ericka led him down the path illuminated by the candles. She touched a panel on the wall and the cascading water slowed to a stop. It was peacefully quiet in the chamber then, save for the echo of their own soft breaths.

Ericka touched a reassuring hand to Drac’s shoulder. Slowly, she removed his cape and shirt as she had many times before, trailing her fingers over the expanse of his bare chest. She felt him shiver under her fingertips. Ericka smiled before leaning forward to pepper kisses over his clavicle and down his sternum. 

“E-ericka…” Drac breathed. When she looked up, his blue eyes were hooded. A light, almost imperceptible blush dusted his cheeks in the candlelight.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m trying to relax you, Drac, not excite you,” she said.

Dracula made a low sound as he took her hands in his, pressing a kiss to her fingertips. “Hmm,” he said, “And why are you so exciting, then?”

It was Ericka’s turn to blush. Gently, she removed her hands from his grasp. Having learned her lesson, she made quick work of his pants and didn’t linger anywhere _ sensitive. _

Now undressed, Drac hovered over the bathtub. He tested the water with a toe, finding it pleasantly warm but not too hot. He braced himself on the edges of the tub and slowly began to lower himself into the water. Warmth quickly spread through his body, soothing his aches and pains, easing his exhaustion. He sighed with contentment. This was more than nice; it was absolutely _ heavenly. _

Ericka took a seat in the chair behind the head of the tub. She watched as her fiance practically melted into the water. Drac sunk down, submerged up to his shoulders. He lay back against the porcelain and sighed. His eyes sank closed in contentment.

Hands suddenly placed themselves on either side of his neck, and he startled. “Relax, it’s just me,” Ericka reminded him affectionately. Dainty fingers pressed gently into the junction between his neck and shoulders until he felt his own tension start to ebb away.

Ericka’s hands began to travel down, pressing outward with her palms as if to compel his hunched shoulders to cooperate. Her hands slid over the tops of his arms and around over his back, her thumbs pressing into the valley between his shoulder blades and moving through to rest below his neck. She began to knead at the muscles there, occasionally sliding all the way up his neck to the base of his skull. She kept a steady, firm pressure; she wasn’t strong enough to actually manipulate his body, of course, but her touch was enough to guide him to willfully relax each muscle group she worked on.

Ericka’s exquisite touch moved upwards. She began to press lazy circles into Drac’s jaw, feeling for tension and rubbing it away. The relaxing scent of the bathwater wafted around him. He inhaled deeply, feeling his body slowly become malleable, like a stiff ball of clay being worked by an artist.

Ericka again moved higher. Her fingers slipped into Drac’s dark hair, sliding over his head. She began to slowly massage his scalp with her fingertips.

A low rumbling sound came from somewhere deep in Drac’s chest. It sounded almost like..._ purring _? It took everything Ericka had to keep from squealing in delight. She was sure to lock that sound away in her mind for later. 

She looked down in wonder at her mate’s upside-down face. He looked so young like this; eyes closed, stress lines gone, mouth curved contentedly. She wondered if this is what he looked like in his youth, a charismatic young vampire eager to tackle life’s adventures head-on.

Ericka’s hands slowly moved from his head, slipping down his neck to slide down either side of his chest. The vibrations from his purring tickled her fingertips. Her face was right next to his now; she turned her head and brushed her lips over his cheek.

Drac’s lids fluttered open. The candlelight illuminated his face, casting a golden hue over his cerulean blue eyes. He smiled sleepily at her. “Ericka..." he murmured, his voice gravelly. He reached up to stroke her face with a wet hand. “Join me, my love.”

Ericka grinned back at him. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” she said. She made quick work of her pyjamas and slipped lithely into the tub.

Warmth flooded her body, and not only from the water; Drac’s strong arms snaked around her and pulled her close, pressing her back to his chest. He tucked her head under his chin and hugged her tightly, matching her deep breaths until they were both rising and falling in unison. Ericka was delighted to feel the soft rumblings of Drac’s purr returning. Pressed so closely to him, it felt like the sound was coming from within her own body.

Dracula sighed happily as his fiancee leaned her full weight against him. After what could only have been seconds, his eyelids began to feel heavy. He succumbed to the warmth and comfort of her body and slowly drifted towards sleep. Being the Zing of Ericka Van Helsing felt as easy as breathing, and that’s exactly how he liked it.


End file.
